Dean's Choice
by angelinconflict
Summary: Part 8 in the Well Runneth Eternal Series and Dean is faced with a heart wrenching and life-changing choice. The end is near, Lucifer is out and about, and what Dean decides now will determine the fate of them all.


Greetings! I am having the time of my life writing this! Again, I take no credit for Supernatural seeing that the entire situation all the characters are of Kripke's invention. Also, if you are just coming into the series now, I warn that it would be best to read the seven other parts that come prior to this one in order for the story to make sense. Enjoy! Enjoy! Enjoy! And please read and review! I appreciate all comments:) Thanks for reading!

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><p>Dean was almost always spacing now, and Sam could barely ever get his attention without it suddenly straying. The strangeness only continued to get worse when Sam passed by his brother, slouched over the sink in the bathroom, hands gripping tight to the porcelain edges.<p>

Wanna talk about it?" he asked one morning when it seemed that Dean might never leave the bathroom.

Dean jumped in response before rounding on his brother. "Announce your presence!" he stormed.

"I did…"

"Knock," Dean emphasized, demonstrating as well, "on the friggin door!"

Sam leaned against the door frame. "Can I ask you what you're doing?"

"Nope," Dean replied, brushing past his brother to enter the kitchen. "And if you and Bobby don't get off my back about it, I'll drop both your asses!"

"You're only saying that because he's out," Sam stated, following Dean.

"Yeah…"

"Because he could kick both our asses," Sam added, stealing a chair to sit in.

"Tell me there's some kind of job for us to do," Dean said, sinking with his back against the counter.

"Nope. I've been looking, and that well's run dry."

"I guess we should be happy about that," Dean muttered, looking over at Sam with a shrug. Sam realized that Dean was searching for words just now. "I know this is gonna sound… weird, but… when you were with Jessica… how did you _know_?"

Sam stared at Dean blankly unsure how to interpret the question. "How did I know… what?"

"That… you know… you…"

"It's not that hard to say," Sam teased, trying to suppress a grin.

"Bite me," Dean shot, turning to the window.

"Dean…"

"It was just a question, geez!"

Sam stood. "It's a complicated answer," he admitted to his brother's back.

"Are there… you know… signs for this kind of thing?" Dean asked without turning around.

Sam was unable to fight back the smile that was taking over his entire face. "Can you give me an example?"

"You just… you end up thinkin about them a lot—_a lot_," he emphasized.

"You didn't think about Lisa a lot?"

"I did… just… not this much," Dean admitted.

Sam swallowed his smile back when Dean was finally able to turn and face him. If he let it loose again, he would have a silent brother for the rest of the week, possibly longer. "Yeah… I thought about Jess a lot… actually more than a lot, probably twenty-four- seven. Her voice echoed in my head—it still does—and I still see her when I close my eyes…"

Dean's expression was immediately apologetic. "Hey… Sammy, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay," Sam insisted, willing to invoke memories of the love of his life if doing so compelled Dean to open up. "She left a lot of good memories, Dean. It used to be painful to think about, but now… it feels good."

Dean's smile was small. "You would've been happy; nobody knows that better than I do."

Sam allowed a little of his smile to seep through. "I was happy all the time when I was with Jess, all the time."

Dean said nothing, but Sam didn't really need him, too. The happiness was there like a soft glow beaming just beneath the flesh of his cheeks. Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "That's really nice, Sammy."

"I notice… you're happy a lot more than usual," Sam nudged, hoping he hadn't crossed a line.

Dean jerked as though these words were more like a physical slap upside the head. "Damn, Sammy, do you know how complicated…" he swallowed, and looked away before diverting his gaze elsewhere. Sam took this opportunity to release the smile a second time. He had never seen his brother like this, not even when he was trying to make it work with Lisa and Ben.

"You know what?"

In response to Dean's outburst, Sam immediately hid his smile behind a more pensive expression.

"You just need to tell me I'm crazy! I'm crazy, right? All this thinking is gnawing at my brain! Do you know how many times I've talked to myself?"

Sam followed Dean outside. "That's normal," Sam murmured, pulling the door closed behind them.

"For Sybil!" Dean charged. "I just need… I need…"

He walked to his Impala. "I need to stop talking about this."

With that, he jammed the key into the ignition and put the car in drive. "I won't be gone long, okay? If you find a job, call me immediately." In a cloud of dust, the Impala was gone.

Sam was about to head inside and celebrate secretly, regarding his brother's new more exposed feelings with a drink when Castiel emerged into the dust that had been expelled behind the racing Impala.

"Was that… Dean?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yep," Sam replied, "thinks he's goin crazy, so he decided to take a drive to clear his head."

Castiel nodded. "Well Sam, I have come for you."

Sam paused at the door. "Me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I need a vessel…"

Sam felt a laugh break from his throat. "You have a vessel, Cas, and no offence, but with you and Dean bein… well… let's just say… close, I have to enthusiastically decline."

"I am releasing Michael from the cage," Castiel said to which Sam suddenly rounded on him.

"What? Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because one archangel cannot subdue Lucifer, Sam; he is out of the cage and there will be serious repercussions if I don't throw him back in!"

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Well, revenge will be top priority which means you and your brother will either be tortured or he will just kill you to save time. Then he will take over for Raphael and bring down the Heavenly Host from the inside. There are still angels that are awaiting his return."

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "I thought I was Lucifer's one true vessel?"

"You and Dean are of the same blood line so therefore you are capable of withstanding Michael; perhaps not for as long as Dean, but after enduring the might of Lucifer's essence, you might possibly be strong enough to allow him to do what he must with Lucifer."

"What do I tell Dean?"

Castiel tried to remain expressionless, but his features immediately tensed. "You will tell him nothing, Sam. I will tell him the truth."

"_Before_ I become Michael's meat puppet?"

"I will go now."

"He's driving so um… announce your presence, somehow," Sam advised.

"Are you going to help me?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah… of course, Cas.

"Thank you," Cas sighed, touched Sam on the shoulder, and vanished from sight.

"No problem," Sam muttered.

The drive did make Dean feel a lot better. Maybe he just felt cooped up at Bobby's. They hadn't gone on a hunt in several weeks now, and he was getting restless. The road ahead was mesmerizing, keeping his thoughts focussed on it as he drove. He felt a lot better now. However, a voice changed everything.

"Hello, Dean."

Gasping in shock and gripping the steering wheel hard, he looked over to see Castiel sitting on the passenger's side. "What is with everyone today?"

"I apologize, Dean, but what I have to tell you takes precedence right now."

Dean gritted his teeth. "Fine, what's up?"

"Sam has agreed to act as Michael's vessel when I release him from the cage."

The impala came to a screeching halt, nearly sending both of them through the windshield. "Tell me that's just a joke," Dean hissed, turning to face Castiel.

"It's not a joke, Dean."

"Are you out of your friggin minds? You do remember what happened the last time Sam said yes to an angel? He is still suffering because of it. You know that, don't you?"

Castiel turned in his seat to face the fuming hunter. "He is stronger because of it," he argued.

"He is shattered because of it!"

"Dean, he has already agreed…"

"I don't care! Michael is not getting any piece of my brother after hate banging the hell out of him in the cage!"

Castiel grabbed Dean's arm roughly, shocking Dean since Castiel had always been calm even under pressure. "Some way or another, this has to happen, Dean! You may not like it, but the alternative is worse, I assure you. With Lucifer free of the cage, he'll be wreaking havoc and his first victims will be you and your brother!"

Dean glanced down at Castiel's pale knuckles. "Fine—if it has to happen—_I'll _do it. _I'll_ be the vessel."

"No," Castiel protested.

"Why? I was the one true vessel at one point so just… let me do this. Sammy doesn't need to go through that crap, again."

"Dean—you're not the one true vessel, anymore," Castiel explained, his grip loosening on Dean's arm. "I love Michael, but one taste of your soul and you won't come back."

"So, I'm what? Like the one ring? I'll corrupt angels unless you toss me into a fiery pit?"

Castiel tilted his head, exposing his confusion. "I don't understand."

"Can I corrupt your angel buddies?"

Castiel nodded reluctantly. "Yes…"

"Well… how about I give it to _you_? You can hold onto it, and I'll be the one true vessel again."

Castiel's nose twitched to this suggestion. "You would trust me with your soul?"

"You're the best candidate for the job, aren't ya? You're already holdin a piece of it, and you're not… corrupted, so… yeah, you can hold onto it."

"You do understand how dangerous this is?"

"When have I ever backed down because something is dangerous?" Dean remarked.

Castiel's smile was fleeting. Dean felt a smile emerge—a small one that remained even as the angel invaded his personal space. He had, at one point, scolded Castiel for being too close, but now—it didn't bother Dean at all. He was staring into the eyes of a warrior he had known and fought beside for years—he could see all the battles they fought, all the wounds they had endured, even all the times he was sure their friendship was at an end only to find that it wasn't that easy to destroy it.

"Thank you… Dean," the angel whispered.

Dean could only nod, temporarily paralyzed with confusion and doubt that was tangled up with certainty and happiness. Castiel released his arm and was gone, the sound of his wings echoing in Dean's ears. With his held breath finally escaping, he collapsed onto the seat.

"Dean?" The sound of pounding outside his car awoke him and he lifted to face Sam.

"Hey, Sammy, what's up?" He sighed, unlocking the door for his brother to climb in.

"Did you just get back?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Dean replied.

"So… Cas told you then?"

"Yep."

"Can you please stop saying that?" Sam pleaded, pulling the door closed. "What's with you?"

"Nothing, Sammy," he replied in a drawl of contentment.

"Really, cause you're smiling so big that you look like some freaky ass clown! Cas did tell you that I'm gonna be Michael's vessel, right?"

Dean lifted up on the seat, encircling his knees. "I'm gonna do it."

Sam's jaw dropped. "What? Dean…"

"It's all worked out, Sam. Michael will bring down Lucifer and life will go back to normal."

"Really? Normal?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Michael will have your soul, Dean! He will be uber powerful and he will definitely wanna keep it even after the fight ends."

"He's not getting my soul," Dean murmured.

"I don't think that's really up to you, dude."

"You're right, once Michael has me, I'm toast, but my soul won't be touched if… I no longer have it."

Sam's eyes narrowed with his confusion. "Explain this to me."

Dean obliged unable to suppress the smile. "Before Michael get his hooks in, Cas is going to extract my soul. Without it, I'm an empty vessel and Michael gets nothing."

Sam eyed Dean impressed. "Alright so… where does your soul go once it's extracted?"

"Cas takes it."

Sam straightened. "Cas… takes it? What? He's now the asylum for souls?"

"My soul is 'the one ring,' Sammy. Obviously there is only person who can carry it."

Sam sighed. "Dean, I'm not sure if you understood the ending to that movie, but no one can carry that much power without being affected by it."

"He's an archangel, Sam, not a friggin hobbit, and yeah, I understood the ending so thanks for that!"

Sam held his hands up in surrender. "I just… aren't you the least bit worried about this plan going sideways?"

"He'll be fine, Sam. Would you stop, already?"

Sam held up both hands in a sign of defeat.

Later on, once the sun had gone down, Dean escaped the Impala to stare up at the sky. "Cas, if you're around, we need to talk—now."

He glanced around for any sign of the angel, but he received none.

"Cas, come on, man! This is important!"

A flutter of wings compelled Dean to turn around. Castiel was standing there, clothes and hair dishevelled. "Do I even wanna know?" Dean said, crossing his arms.

"Probably not. What's so important, Dean?"

"Well—you're plannin on siphoning my soul, right? Of course, _I_ know the risks—do _you_?"

Castiel stared at Dean momentarily. "Risks, Dean?"

"Yeah… you know… you take my soul, the power of it overwhelms you, you end up sailing off to god knows where?"

"You have lost me, Dean."

"That's the whole friggin point," Dean stormed. "Look, if you saw the movie, you'd understand."

"What… movie?"

"It doesn't matter. Just tell me that there is no chance that taking my soul into you will somehow destroy you."

Castiel placed his hands in his pockets. "I cannot tell you that."

"So you could potentially die?"

"Yes."

"That's a stupid risk."

"For a good cause," Castiel added.

Dean began to pace in a circle, arching his arms over his head. "You and your good causes and master plans! Look, just stuff my stupid soul into a bottle or something and we will 'I dream of Genie' it out when Michael's finished with me!"

Castiel approached the distraught hunter. "A bottle will not keep it safe, Dean," he said softly.

"How high is the risk?"

"High," Castiel admitted.

"Is there a 50% chance?"

"It is more like… 85% chance."

Dean nodded, laughing from a growing anxiety. "So, you have a 15% chance of surviving?"

"Yes…"

"We can't do this! You especially can't do this, Cas! I know you wanna be the big hero, here, but heroes die!"

"I have learned that."

"I won't let my soul be the thing that kills you," Dean said firmly.

"So, you won't help?"

"I never said that…"

"There is no other way I can think of to do this. Dean… I need your help. Please…"

Dean forced a nod, hating himself for being unable to back down. "I'll ask Sam and Bobby to help me research some ritual or spell or anything that might take some of the impact out of sucking up my soul," he suggested in a torn voice.

"I appreciate that, Dean."

"You have done too much for us, Cas; you don't deserve to die like this."

"Sailing off into 'God knows where' you mean? That doesn't sound like a terrible departure."

Dean laughed. "Yeah well, after this crap with Michael and Lucifer, you're sittin down with me and Sam and watchin it. I think you'll appreciate it, plus you'll get to see Sam cry like a baby at the end."

"May I ask what I will be watching?"

"Yeah, after the Michael/Lucifer brawl."

"That's fair."

After the angel left, Dean wasted no time in getting Sam to help him find something that would potentially save Castiel from exploding with too much power. Sam helped without even a breath of reluctance, and when Bobby returned from his trip with three other hunting buddies, he added his own assistance, admitting that life really wouldn't be the same without Castiel acting as their guardian.

Even as Sam and Bobby slept, Dean searched, going through every book Bobby owned while also scouring Sam's tablet. It was hard enough thinking the angel had been banished, that he had been too late to save him even though God worked his magic yet again to bring Castiel back. Dean just kept thinking that there would eventually be one death that God would not fix—because it was fate or meant to be, or written in the damn stars—and Castiel would be gone for good. Even the thought was painful. Losing his fiery momentum to the lulling of sleep, his head dropped onto the open book he had currently been reading.

A shake of his shoulder jolted him and he sprang up, gasping. "Sammy?"

"Bobby," his friend corrected, sitting in a chair next to him. "Dean, you need a proper sleep or you're gonna burn out."

"I can't, Bobby," Dean replied groggily.

"I'm not givin you a choice, son. It's either you go to bed on your own or Sam and I drag you to it. Which would you prefer?"

"Is there a 'none of the above' choice?"

"No."

"Fine, then I hate to say this, but you and Sammy will be wastin' your time."

"You think so, huh?"

"I'm not sleepin until I can find something, anything that's useful."

"We figured you would probably say that," Bobby said, "which is why Sam and I brought help."

A flutter of wings warned Dean that he would not be able to escape the angel. One touch and he was out.

Sam patted Castiel's sleeve. "Thanks, man, he just would not sleep. We were lucky he actually passed out last night. Seven days, Cas. He's killing himself."

"And to make things worse, we can't find a damn thing that will help you," Bobby added.

"I apologize for all of this. I have died before so I just assumed Dean would take it as he normally does."

Sam stared at Castiel in disbelief. "I was there when you died the first time. Dean didn't take it well then, either."

"He will be fine, Sam," Castiel murmured.

"He'll be a wreck, Cas, and I know you know that or you wouldn't be here!"

"What would you have me do? I cannot just…"

"Let me be Michael's vessel. That way, you don't die and Dean doesn't try killing himself in search of a cure to save your ass."

Castiel shook his head. "Dean would not want that…"

"Dean doesn't want you dead!" Sam stormed. "You do know that once you get blown to smithereens, Dean's memories will return. He will be forced to face a lifetime knowing you never told him what you should have told him in the first place! Can you possibly understand how that will tear him up?"

Castiel pressed a hand to his face. "We'll give him a choice," he suggested, facing Sam with sombre eyes.

"Cas…"

"We both know, when it comes right down to it, he will choose to sacrifice anyone else over his brother. But if you need proof, wait till he wakes and ask him." With that, the angel was gone, leaving Sam to stare grimly at the space he left behind.

Castiel emerged in the small bedroom where he had sent Dean. "There is a chance," he said, approaching the hunter's bedside. Dean lay sprawled atop the blankets, mouth open slightly, a result of being put out.

"Dean, you have to trust me that I have no intention of leaving you. I promise to fight…" his voice cracked unexpectedly as he bent down. "Your soul will be protected, and Michael will not harm you." He pressed a hand tenderly to Dean's forehead. "I will tell you everything when the time comes for you to know it. Until then… have faith in me."

He left the hunter to arrive back in Heaven. The garden was rich and ripe with vegetation, the grass reaching past Castiel's thigh as he walked through. Tears laid claim to his cheeks as he made his way to where he knew Joshua would be.

"Hello, brother, come here a minute!"

Castiel followed the sound of the voice that eventually led to a large tree in the middle of the garden. Lucifer stood there, holding an apple on his palm. "Eat and you shall gain all knowledge."

Castiel batted the apple out of the angel's hand. "How are you even here?"

"No rules, no God, and a few dozen brothers and sisters who have missed me dearly," Lucifer replied with a grin. "Did no one tell you that an apple a day…"

"Crowley is gone so I suggest you crawl back into your hole," Castiel interrupted with fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh yeah, I heard that. Good job, brother. Too bad what's-her-face had to die, though. Sacrifices s-s-s-suck, don't they?" He was smiling widely now, holding around the trunk of the tree with one arm. "Okay, let me see if I got this right? You—are gonna haul Michael out of his cage, use Dean's body as a vessel for him, and he's gonna kick my ass, is that right?"

Castiel glowered, but said nothing.

"And Dean's juicy soul is going… where? Because we both know Michael can get a little greedy, sometimes. One sniff and he will probably be a bit difficult to beat."

"Go to Hell," Castiel snapped.

"Funny, Cassie. I see you've gained a sense of humour, hanging out with those humans. Good for you!" Lucifer appeared easily in front of him. "Let me remind you of something before you get too involved, little brother. Dean Winchester, though extremely capable, seemingly resilient, and truth be told: hot, is still just… a human. Infinite soul or not, he's nothing special, and from what I understand, you are exactly what makes the human's soul more than what it ever was. You truly, truly love him; voila! The infinite soul is born!"

Castiel pushed past him.

"You do realize something, don't you?" Lucifer pressed, snatching the apple off the ground to offer Castiel. "You've already taken a bite of this—figuratively speaking. Technically though, you ate the whole damn thing, core and all when you sucked up all them Purgatory dwellers." He smirked. "Was it sinfully good?" He grabbed Castiel's sleeve before he could take another step. "Were his lips as sweet as… candy?"

Castiel swung a fist right into Lucifer's jaw, striking with impressive strength.

"Ow," Lucifer laughed, holding his jaw.

"Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, brother, because I promise you it will not last long."

"I struck a nerve," Lucifer purred, straightening, "A raw one from the looks of it." He confronted the angel, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you started this. Obviously, you still cannot take a joke."

"Back off!" Castiel snarled, throwing a beam of light straight into Lucifer's chest. He hit the ground with a force that shook the whole of Heaven.

"That must be… Dean's soul," choked Lucifer, rising to his feet. "That's not playing fair, Cassie!"

"What do you know of playing fair?" Castiel snapped, throwing his coat to the ground along with his suit jacket. "You are a just a giant disappointment to Dad, to your brothers, to me…"

"Hold your tongue, little brother, or I might have to remove it."

"Did I strike a nerve? Well… I apologize for that."

"Wow, you're getting mouthy in your old age!"

"And you are pathetic!"

"Down boy," Lucifer snarled, lowering his hand. The power he wielded was weak but not gone and Castiel was forced to the ground. "You are playing with fire," he hissed.

"So are you…brother!" The energy Castiel attained from keeping a piece of Dean's soul was enough to thrust Lucifer into the tree of knowledge. Apples rained down from the impact, and Lucifer slid down, gasping. Castiel stood over him. "I am finished playing nice! If you so much as drop a hint, I will end you."

He turned away from Lucifer's crumpled form, gathered his suit jacket and coat and left the garden. Lucifer's voice chased after him. "Cassie, I have never felt so proud of a brother before."

Dean awoke well rested and pissed. Obviously he was not able to do any research while temporarily incapacitated by an angel. He pulled himself up and jumped in shock to the figure of Castiel standing at the foot of the bed. He pushed the blankets off him, frustrated. "You have issues, you know that?"

Castiel said nothing, but Dean still heard his voice:

_We need to talk. Now._

"What the hell is going on, Cas?"

Castiel approached Dean and pressed a hand on his forehead. They emerged in a place Dean could not recognize. Before Dean could say a word, Castiel put a hand on his mouth shaking his head.

_Dean… I have something to tell you… about Luckless._

Dean shook his head, searching for the door. He was able to communicate in the same manner as Castiel.

_Forget it! I don't wanna hear it, Cas!_

_Now, you don't want to hear it?_

_No! Where the hell are we?_

_A place that is safe, but not a hundred percent safe._

_Where?_

Dean stood on the opposite side of the giant warehouse, glaring at the angel standing there.

_I feel crazy most of the time since all I do is think, so can we please just talk like two normal human beings?_

Castiel did speak, but his voice was low, secretive. "You need to know about what happened in Luckless, Dean."

"You saved me, I know. I'm not expecting the novel version, Cas."

"There's more…"

"Don't," Dean demanded, covering his ears. "I don't wanna know!"

"Why?"

"Because, Cas! You're only telling me this because you think you're gonna die! Tell me when everything's wrapped up, alright? Can we go now? This place is freakin me out!"

Castiel stood there, staring at Dean. "What if I tell you now _and_ after?"

"You're not telling me now so just deal with it, and let's go." He grabbed the sleeve of Castiel's coat, but he was still refusing to move. "Jesus, Cas, don't make this hard!"

"If I don't make it…"

"Cas, shut up!"

_If I don't make it, you will learn exactly what happened in Luckless. Will you accept that I did not tell you?_

Dean's mouth was suddenly dry, making it difficult for him to speak. "You will tell me, Cas. You'll tell me when the devil is back in the pit and your head is no longer on the chopping block."

Castiel nodded, teleporting them both back to Bobby's. "I will see you soon, Dean," he finished and was gone before Dean could utter a response. Dean stood there, mouth ajar with words that had not quite reached his tongue, now stuck in a permanent limbo. With a heavy sigh, he entered the house.

He was almost immediately confronted by both Bobby and Sam.

"Dean," Sam started, a grave look twisting his features, "Cas wants to give you a choice, and since we don't see eye to eye on this, I will tell you what I think is rational."

"Did Cas just talk to you?" Dean asked mystified.

"Sit down, Dean," Bobby ordered, pulling out a chair for Dean to sink into.

"Actually, after Cas put you out, we had a chat."

"And that was…?"

"Three days ago," Sam replied.

"Okay… so what's the choice?"

"I let Michael use me as a vessel, allowing Castiel to live."

"Or," Dean pressed.

"Or you become the vessel, resulting in your infinite soul eventually killing Cas. I will add that you have never been a vessel for an angel which lowers your survival rate drastically. The logical choice is for me to be Michael's vessel…"

"No," Dean said with finality.

"Dean…"

"No, Sam!"

"Dean, don't put my life ahead of yours and his! We both know what will happen if you happen to survive and Cas… doesn't."

"What did he tell you?" Dean demanded, getting up from the chair fiercely. "Well?"

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line before responding. "He said that you will sacrifice anyone else over… me."

"Then he knows me a lot better than you do because he's right," Dean stormed. Sam followed Dean out of the house, calling him in shouts as they walked.

"Would you stop for two seconds?"

Dean did stop, shoulders slouched, back muscles tense as he seemed to be gazing towards the horizon. "There is no other choice to make," Dean croaked dangerously close to breaking down. "Cas understands. He knows that I will choose you over everything else every time! There are no exceptions, Sammy."

Sam approached his brother carefully, placing a hand one quaking shoulder. "What about what I choose, Dean?"

"You should choose to live," Dean demanded, eyeing him now.

"Well, I don't. I choose for my brother to live. I wasn't afraid to jump in the hole before; I'm not afraid now."

"It's us against the world, Sammy," Dean choked in reminder. "If I forget that, then I forget everything we've gone through. It's blood versus water, and blood always wins—always!"

"What if you lose him?"

It was the first time Sam had let the question drop off his tongue in that manner. He was no longer referring to Castiel as just their friend or a solider they fought with on the front lines; he was referring to Castiel as something more in Dean's life, the true love in Dean's life.

"I'll live," Dean replied gruffly, clearing his face of the unexpected tears. "But you and Bobby and anyone who knows us, knows that I _won't_… if I have to lose you again."

Sam hugged around his brother's shoulders, shedding several tears. "You know I'm not immortal, Dean, eventually you'll have to lose me."

"I'm fine with that, as long as you're older than Bobby, walkin with a cane, and still actin like the wimp that you are." Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, despite the brotherly insult. "You're my little brother, Sammy, and I swore to Dad that I would protect you with my life. That is not changing just because you're freakin Godzilla, now."

Sam was forced to clean himself of the tears. "Ha ha!"

"Nothing changes, Sammy," Dean reiterated, "No matter what happens, nothing changes, understand?"

Sam nodded.

"You two, get in here!" Bobby called from the doorway.

The brothers turned in unison. "Why?" They asked at the same time, then turned to each other in acknowledgement of their unanimous train of thought.

Bobby sighed heavily. "Cause I think I found somethin' that just might save Cas."

Sam felt himself smile and looked over to see that a light was glowing behind Dean's face before facing Bobby. "Seriously?" he gasped.

"No, I'm jokin', just thought I'd make a funny to interrupt your sentimental moment, here! Of course, I'm serious. Get in here!"

Dean was grinning as he followed Bobby, Sam watching them as they headed to the table where the research had been splayed out for over a week. He couldn't feel anything else but happiness as he lagged behind, excited that his brother might not have to make a life-changing choice after all, that he might be able to finally experience love in all its glory while still being able to protect his younger brother. Before Sam joined Bobby and Dean, he loosed one last, unbelievably bright smile. God, he thought as he moved over the threshold, thanks, man. We seriously owe you one.

Dean was bent over Bobby's shoulder, reading what looked like an incantation. "Is that latin?" he asked, squinting against the glow of the tablet screen.

"It is, and trust me when I tell you that this is the only thing that exists in the world that might possibly help," Bobby replied.

"What does it do?" Dean asked.

Sam, who could actually read Latin, bent over Bobby's other shoulder to decipher the incantation for Dean and Bobby.

_Soul sender, release me from your power. Ease into me gently so that I may protect your gift._

Dean and Sam exchanged slightly disturbed looks.

"That sounds vaguely dirty," Dean admitted, straightening. "Where did you find that, Bobby?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes," Dean and Sam answered at the same time.

Bobby sighed and touched the screen, allowing the brothers to lean in together to stare at Bobby's source. "It's a… site for LARPers," Sam acknowledged.

"Like World of Warcraft?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, but with angels, demons, the devil and everything in between," Bobby replied. "I'm not sayin it'll work, but anything's worth a shot right now."

Dean nodded. "Maybe we could add some angel mojo to it, make it more… legit?" He grinned, nudging Sam in the arm. "We could start doin more stuff like this, maybe even start writing spells and keepin 'em in a book, huh? What do you think, Sammy?"

"I think you've gone temporarily insane," Sam remarked.

"Hey, you're the one with the psychic stuff; all I've got is a friggin annoying infinite soul! At least let me have this!"

"Fine," sighed Sam. "You wanna be a witch? Go right ahead!"

"Warlock, Sammy. Dudes are warlocks, look it up."

"Not according to Harry Potter," Sam retorted.

"Seriously? You're gonna play that card? You're such a nerd."

"Bite me!"

"Boys! Don't make me kick both your asses! Focus, please!" Bobby ordered.

Dean nudged Sam who nudged him back twice as hard before they returned to the job at hand.

Dean was unable to stop grinning as he bowed his head to pray: "Castiel, can you come down here a sec? It's important."

"It's always important," Castiel spoke from directly behind Dean. "Even when it isn't important, you claim it is."

Dean turned to face him. "I'm just gonna ignore that since you're obviously moody, and I'm gonna come right out and say it. We have a plan!"

"A plan?" Castiel repeated incredulously. "What sort of plan?"

"A plan that's gonna save your feathery ass," Dean replied. "That's right, we found a way to save you from a sticky death involving my soul."

Castiel was smoothing the creases out of his coat before lifting his eyes to Dean's. "You're grinning—a lot," he observed tonelessly.

"Of course I'm grinning, Cas! If this plan works, my soul won't kill you! That's a serious cause for celebration!"

Castiel looked from Dean's face to the faces of Sam and Bobby before responding. "_If_ your plan works?"

"It's a work in progress," Dean added. "We could use your help if you're not busy… commanding an army or whatever you're doin up there."

Castiel sank, with an exhausted groan, into one of the chairs. "I will help," he offered.

"Somethin wrong, Cas?" Sam inquired, but the angel said nothing, just sat there with a hand on his forehead. Dean approached Castiel's chair to place a hand on his weary shoulder.

_Cas, this is a safe room. You know you can tell us anything, right?_

Castiel glanced up in astonishment at Dean's capability.

_Yes. But I am surprised you have chosen to 'think' at me._

_I found you can't interrupt._

Castiel laughed, confusing the two hunters that had been left out of the conversation. "I found Lucifer in the garden. He has been given access to Heaven and is now gathering all his followers. In our father's absence, I am the only one strong enough to banish him once more, but he knows things he shouldn't know, things that will be my weakness in the end…"

_He knows about you, Dean. He knows that you are my only weakness…_

_So we bring him down! We've done it before, except we'll make it permanent!_

Sam gave his brother a long, burrowing look. "Hello!" he called when Dean was staring blankly at him. "For those of us who can't read minds," Sam prompted.

"Oh," Dean realized. "I didn't say it out loud?"

"Have I told you yet how dangerous this whole thinkin thing is?" Sam remarked.

Dean glanced over at his brother. "You're jealous," he said with a smirk.

Sam said nothing, but Bobby piped up immediately. "I'm not, but I'm curious! We have Lucifer to deal with and…"

Dean grinned, tightening his grip on the angel's shoulder. "We get the spell up and runnin then we send Lucifer's sorry ass back into the pit, permanently!"

"Good, we have a plan," Bobby said, leaving the room to make coffee.

"I know you don't drink or eat… anything, but… you want some… coffee?" Sam offered to Castiel with an uncomfortable shuffle towards the kitchen.

"No Sam, but thank you."

"Sure, no prob, man." With that, Sam left to join Bobby.

Dean handed the angel Sam's tablet to get a good look at the incantation. "That's um… interesting," Castiel admitted, handing the tablet back to Dean.

"What do you expect from a LARPing site?" Dean remarked. "Can we do somethin' with that, maybe add some angel mojo to boost its credibility?"

"I will do what I can."

Dean confronted Castiel with a wide smile. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"I'm vaguely aware."

"You have to tell me everything that happened in Luckless after this is all over."

"_If_ this works," Castiel emphasized.

"It will work," Dean said, coming around to face the angel directly. "We have a long night ahead of us, Cas. We need to get everything just right so that when you finally do take my soul in, you don't pull a 'Frodo' .

Castiel looked ready to ask, but stopped himself. "I assume that is from the movie you and Sam are insisting I watch?"

"Yeah. Nine hours, man, and that's only if we don't get you to sit through the extended editions."

"I'm anticipating that," he admitted.

"And turn the bat phone off; distractions are bad when attempting to watch this epic."

"Of course, though that is technically impossible."

"Humour me," Dean muttered.

"We should work on this spell," Castiel suggested, easing himself out of the chair.

Dean smirked as Sam and Bobby joined, carrying mugs of coffee and looks of determination.

"Alright," he said with a clap, "Let's do this bitch!"


End file.
